


The Samurai's Mask

by Huitzil



Category: Legend of the Five Rings
Genre: Crane Clan, F/M, Iaijutsu, Romance, Scorpion Clan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huitzil/pseuds/Huitzil
Summary: A young man of the villainous Scorpion clan, not yet a samurai, falls in love at first sight. She's a Crane, noble, elegant, perfect, and totally beyond his level. All Scorpion wear masks, and foolishly he thinks this means they're the only ones.





	The Samurai's Mask

He was transfixed by that single movement, a rainbow of silver and white. He knew she was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

He'd almost missed it, would have if not for his stupid mask. All Scorpion are supposed to wear masks, unless something Really Important is happening; so it's extremely poor form to have it off when one is just walking around. His mask kept slipping off his right ear and dangling from the side of his face, it really was too big for him, but his father held such pride in making it that he didn't have the heart to tell him that it really was too big, or that it smelled kind of funny, or that it really would be more suited for a would-be samurai than a would-be courtier like himself. When he was walking to the market to get something for lunch, it slipped off again; he quickly covered his mouth and tried to make it look like he was laughing to himself rather than covering up a slipped-off mask. He figured that nobody would be able to tell unless they looked too close, which they wouldn't, after all Scorpion laughed like that all the time, since there were a lot of jokes only they were in on. Or at least, people thought they did, and that was good enough. 

He ducked into an alleyway to fix it, and that was when he saw her. There was an area where two alleys connected and one of the buildings walling it was not quite as big as the property line, making a small, hidden little nook in the middle of the city. It was probably there to provide an area the shopkeepers could sneak into when they snuck out of the backs of their stores to take out the garbage or catch a smoke, but right now, she was there, practicing.

It was iaijutsu, it had to be, because she was drawing her blade out in one killing stroke, and it moved so fast its gleam stayed in one place longer than it did, forming a gleaming arc of flawlessness that lingered in his eyes long after it had actually vanished. He had made remarks before about the silliness of iaijutsu, how it was foolish to train in an art that assumed your opponent started with his sword stowed away -- he'd never make them again.

She was a Crane, obviously, if the sword technique wasn't enough to tell, there was her shoulder-length platinum hair, splayed about her in an arc that he was sure described some mathematical perfection, the powder blue kimono she didn't "wear" so much as "stand inside". She put both her hands on the hilt of her sword and held it close to her chest, then began to swing up and down, back and forth, a kata that increased her familiarity with the weapon's weight, and one that held him utterly hypnotised.

She was so absorbed in her exercise she didn't see him, which was for the best. It was, after all, unseemly for a Scorpion to be seen with his mask hanging ignored from the side of his face, and next to that, his jaw hanging open in awe.

* * * * *

:

He excused himself from court an hour earlier the next day -- it wasn't very hard, as he was only there to watch and not participate, and nothing was really happening anyway. On his way out, Fujio gave him a handful of coin and asked him to pick up some udon and bring it back to court. He agreed and thanked the honored Bayushi for the opportunity to do him the favor, even though he had already decided there was no way he was going to do it. He knew he had to show up early, well before she did, and that left no time to stand in line or run around delivering food. Even as it was, he knew he'd be several hours late to get back. He'd tell them that the line at the market was longer than usual that day, and that he got turned around in the process and was lost, wandering about the city trying to find his way back. Nobody would really believe it, but they wouldn't pry too much -- he was young after all, his gempukku still half a year away, and he figured he has a few youthful irresponsibilities left to cash in before he became an adult and they all vanished.

He briefly considered keeping Fujio's money and saying his pocket was picked, but figured that was crossing the line. 

He heard her footsteps coming down the alleyway and hurriedly pulled the wide straw hat he wore over his face, hoping that it made him look enough like an old man who had stopped over for a nap that he wouldn't be bothered. He pulled his arms into his kimono and carefully reached up through his collar to adjust the hat until he could just see her in one eye, through a ragged hole in the woven straw. She tipped her head left and right, worked her shoulders forward and back, put one leg forward and placed her hand on the hilt of her blade, then took a deep breath. So did he.

She was only there for twenty minutes, perhaps half an hour at most. He was hypnotized the entire time; he didn't move, didn't speak, and in looking back, wasn't even sure he exhaled until she left. When she did, he felt at once exhausted and elated, as if he had performed her exercises himself. He wondered if this is what a monk felt like when he attained nirvana. And then thought, if it isn't, then meditation is a waste of time.

* * * * *

He showed up there every day for the rest of the week. Now that he knew what time she would be there, he managed to avoid being late to return to court again, but noticed that Fujio was having his lunch delivered to him.

Each day he watched her, never said a word to her, nor her to him. He wasn't even sure she was aware of his existence -- he thought, to perform with such grace, she had to be too focused to see anything else. She swung, he watched, and there was nobody else in the world.

* * * * *

On the sixth day, to his chagrin, he came to the alleyway to find it already occupied, a group of old, bald or balding men throwing about a pair of dice. He stood there for a few moments, finger outstretched, trying to think of how he would phrase his request. He couldn't just say "Hi, did you happen to shoo off the most beautiful woman in the universe? I need to find her so I can just sit near her and gawk." Of course not, he was a Scorpion, and he was pretty sure that a Scorpion was only supposed to say he liked something when it was a veiled threat.

Luckily for him, one of the old men noticed him and spoke first.

"You look lost, Scorpion. You looking for someone?"

He nodded. He hoped it looked like an enigmatic, disinterested nod, but really it was because he was afraid that if he spoke, his voice would crack.

The old man snorted and took the pair of dice into his hand. "Huh. I thought you guys were supposed to know everything about everybody. There was a girl here a while ago. Had a sword. She said someone would come looking for her, and to tell him that she'd be standing in the back yard of the Kakita school tonight, with the gate unlocked." He threw the dice onto the ground in front of him and scowled at the result, while the two other gamblers chuckled. "Although I can't see why she would want to tell that to someone like you. Probably going to come back and get her killed."

He ignored the last snide remark, and bowed respectfully to the old man. "The Kakita school, tonight, in the back yard. Thank you for telling me. I will leave you to your game." He turned around and walked away, but once he was out of sight of the alley, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, placed it against a nearby wall to write upon, and hurriedly wrote a short physical description of the man he spoke to, then underneath it the word "Gambling". He folded the paper and put it back in his pocket -- he'd probably never see the man again, and if he did, probably would not recognize him, but it was good to at least get into the habit.

* * * * *

He felt out of place anywhere, even in the court chambers he is supposed to move through like a fish through water, but here he felt the most out of place of all. The Kakita school had an immaculate garden of sakura trees behind it, he's pretty sure they all do, and he imagined they are staring at him, scrutinizing him. They're perfect. Everything here was perfect save him. He wondered if they could sense it, if the bark would recede at his touch rather than allow itself to be contaminated by him. He knew it was absurd but could not bring himself to put out a hand and prove it.

"I had not expected you would come so openly. I thought you preferred to observe in silence?" The voice behind him was soft but not frail, gentle yet forceful. He'd never heard it before, but he knew it's her voice. Blood rushed to his face. "Isn't that how you operate? To wait in the shadows, searching for a moment of weakness, the perfect moment to strike?"

He spun around on one heel to face her, hoping he could quickly put on the facade of someone in complete control of the situation, that he could move the conversation away from the fact he had been stalking this woman for the better part of a week. That wasn't what happened. 

He spun rather quickly and when he stopped rotating, his too-loose mask didn't. It came unhooked from his right ear, swung in a half-circle downward past his face, then propelled by its momentum easily lifted itself from his left ear and twirled through the air in a lazy helix, flipping end over end before landing in the grass a few yards away with a dull "clunk". His jaw hung open in shock, and he stared at her, utterly mortified. 

She returned his stare with an inscrutable gaze of her own for five whole seconds. Then her lips pursed and her jaw began to quiver. Her hand darted to her mouth to muffle a sputter of noise. Her shoulders went up, her head went down, her body quivered. When her hand fell from her mouth, it revealed her unsuccessfully trying to hold in a wide smile. Her composure finally shattered, and she nearly doubled over, unable to contain her mirth. She was laughing.

And then something amazing happened: He was laughing with her.


End file.
